


Five Times Arthur Dent Lost His Towel

by norah



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-09
Updated: 2006-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 04:41:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norah/pseuds/norah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Arthur Dent Lost His Towel

**Author's Note:**

> For MissPamela.

  1. How many times Arthur Dent has actually lost his towel is somewhat subjective. There's some question as to whether it counted as "losing" his towel, for example, the time the Infinite Improbability Drive turned it, in rapid succession, into a marmoset, a pair of size thirty-eight lederhosen, a tin of kippers, a bowl of noodles without the bowl, and then back into his towel again. Or the time it turned it into a rather classy pair of spats and left it that way. Or the many times he lost his bag (including towel) and found it again but both bag and towel were totally different than they had been. This sort of thing happens to Arthur a lot, and it makes it really quite difficult to keep track of anything about his life at all.

 

  2. "Holy Zarquon!" Ford yelled, hiding behind Arthur and clutching his towel. "Do something!"

"What do you want me to do?" Arthur yelled back, eyeing the sabre-toothed tiger as it stalked toward them.

"I don't know! Think of something!"

Arthur flailed about his person for a moment, in the manner of a man who hopes that he has forgotten that he is packing a powerful Plasmozapatron gun or Sirius Cybernetics MattaTransfa pad. He found neither of those things, and was beginning to panic, when he seized on his towel. With a triumphant yell, he wadded it up and threw it full in the face of the advancing tiger.

The sabre-tooth caught the terrycloth missile in its powerful jaws and gulped it down in one swallow, preparing to spring.

It stopped.

It coughed.

It coughed again, and gagged, and began to paw at its face frantically.

"Run!" Arthur cried.

They did.

As the hairball-like hacking faded in the distance, Ford and Arthur slowed, and then dragged, and then finally lurched to a halt. Ford flopped down on the ground, gasping and looking strangely greenish. "Good thinking, Arthur," he said.

Arthur stared at the perfectly good towel Ford was using to mop sweat from his face. He narrowed his eyes. "Hey, wait a minute. Why didn't you throw _your_ towel?"

"But Arthur," Ford said, looking up at him in surprise, "I _need_ my towel."

 

  3. Among the hoopier circles of Galactic hitchhikers, the phrase, "lost his towel" has become a colorful way of indicating a variety of states of total uncoolness, from causing a disgraceful scene in public to being made to look a fool in front of attractive female beings to doing something incredibly unwise when one really ought to know better by now. For example, every time Ford Prefect submits his expense reports and the _Guide_ pays them, the _Guide_ accounting offices could be said to have lost their collective towel. Unlike corporeal towels, a metaphorical towel can be lost numerous times in succession without being found in the interim.

By this definition, Arthur Dent completely and utterly loses his towel on a fairly regular basis.

 

  4. Of course, there was the time Trillian borrowed it ("Just for a bit, Arthur, I can't find mine") and then lent it to Marvin to oil his joints, and Marvin, after he'd got it all greasy, proceeded to _talk_ to it about _life_, and the poor towel unravelled itself out of despair. Arthur was a bit put out with Trillian about that, even after she gave him one of Zaphod's towels, the nice monogrammed ones. He'd been rather attached to his own towel.

 

  5. Arthur stepped out of the shower, humming, and dried his hair before wrapping his towel around his waist and ambling into the bedroom. He made it a few steps in before it registered that his bed was occupied by a very naked Ford Prefect. Arthur stopped in his tracks. Not only was Ford quite splendidly nude, he was also doing something wildly kinky and - Arthur squinted - quite likely anatomically impossible, with the help of the new toy he'd insisted on picking up during their layover on Eroticon Twelve.

"Ford," Arthur said, and then stammered to a halt. Ford panted and let out a little grunt as he managed a particularly creative _twist_ of the toy, looking straight into Arthur's eyes the whole time. Arthur's towel began to develop a rather noticeable tent.

"Ford, I...You..." Arthur took a few more shaky steps toward the bed. "Do you want...?"

"Arthur," Ford said, "Lose the towel."

Arthur did.





End file.
